The Unnamed Mermaid of Whitecap Bay
by DramaKing4Life
Summary: A lovely Mermaid in Whitecap Bay is different from her sisters, an odd one out amongst the shoal. A Syrena and the mermaids of Pirates of the Caribbean On Stranger Tides fan fic


Gosh, I haven't written a story in aaaages! I recently watched Pirates of the Caribbean On Stranger Tides, and I LOVED it! I fell in love with the character of Syrena the mermaid and her relationship with Missionary Philip. I wish there was more of them in the film, so I decided to write a bit of background to Syrena and the other mermaids using known information about them and elebortated up it, and this is the result, I hope you guys like it :), write a review if you wish.

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><p><span>The Unnamed Mermaid of Whitecap Bay<span>

The silver orb of the moon sailed out from behind its covering of velvet black night, silhouetting the ancient lighthouse in a dramatic halo of light and cast its long beams out across the water, where pale foaming breakers crashed and hissed against the dark, jagged rocks of Whitecap Bay. Somewhere out in the night, a lone sea-gull shrieked and called.

Far beneath the cold waves of the bay, where long fronds of kelp swayed with the currents and grew twisting round the grave yard of the many wrecked ships and boats littering the sea bed, a Mermaid sat quietly gazing up to the faint ripples of light above.

She sighed, and a trail of bubbles escaped her exquisitely formed lips. Like all her kin she was enchantingly beautiful, possessing large liquid eyes, cascading dark tresses and a slim, pale form that tapered into a long fish tail shimmering with coral and copper hued scales. She was as fair, if not fairer than her mermaid sisters who also haunted the bay, yet she was also very different from them. For they were as cruel and as ferocious as the roughest of seas, and deadlier than any shark but she, she was as gentle as the calmest of seas and as timid as an angel fish.

With a graceful kick of her tail she left her rocky perch and swam up to the wrecked hull of a galleon, slid in through a gapping hold in the side and gazed upon the destruction her kind have caused within. For a large shoal of mermaids has the power to sink a battleship, the rocks of Whitecap Bay can bare witness to this.

Mermaids have a fathomless hatred for mortals. For as long as there have been mermaids in the sea, there have been men who have hunted them, driving them to the furthest corners of the map. So, for as many centuries, her kind have in turn preyed upon mortals, luring with their stunning faces and sweet song many an unlucky mariner, foolish enough to stray into their waters, into their pale arms. Once in their embrace the mermaids would pull their prey under water and revealing their fanged teeth, tear them to pieces and devour their flesh, leaving the bones to be pecked over by smaller fish.

The Mermaid picked up a barnacle encrusted telescope from amongst the wreckage, the lens cracked and useless. She turned it over in her hands, studying it intently. She had explored all the sunken ships in the bay, but this one was a particular favourite of hers. It contained a large number of chests and boxes each with an unusual emblem on them, three letters separated by triple crosses. Some of these boxes were filled with odd smelling powders that when opened floated out in pungent clouds before dispersing with the currents and others were filled with golden coins that glowed faintly in the dim underwater light. She drifted and sat on an upturned chest curling her tail protectively about her. With the telescope resting on her lap she thought about the men who had manned this ship. She often felt remorse for the men who died in the arms of her sisters. She would hear their cries of fear and saw the looks of horror upon their faces as they were feasted upon and feel moved by their deaths, even though she knew these men often meant her and her sisters harm, she could not bring herself to kill one.

She found mortals fascinating and was intrigued by their strange behaviour and would spend her time studying the objects left in the wreckage. Her sisters would mock her behaviour and tell her that mortals deserved their fate.

All men were the same in their eyes, sustenance or reproduction and nothing more. Some of the Mermaid's shoal had thoughts like her before. They had even sought out relationships with mortal men. One shoal sister once had feelings for a roguish pirate. He had named her Marina, for mermaids do not have names like mortals do for each other, and for a time he would woo her on the rocks with fancy words and bottles of strange amber liquid, then one day he just stopped coming. Tamara refused to even speak of the man who had named her and both she and Marina hated mortals all the more after their encounters with them. The only time her kind sought men was when the numbers in the shoal dwindled, and so shedding their scaly form they would mate with a mortal they had lured ashore and once they had done the deed, the man was devoured and she would return to the sea and her sisters. The child when born was always a female, always a mermaid and just as deadly her fully grown shoal sisters.

The Mermaid in her secluded, shadowy sanctuary of the wrecked ship mused to herself what it would be like to meet a mortal and have a human name and even walk on land. She had never shed her tail like many of her sisters and had never met a mortal up close. It seemed strange to her that her sisters disliked mortals so much and yet their very survival depended upon them. A shoal of silvery fish swam past her face, bringing the Mermaid out of her thoughts and back into the hull of the ship. She looked down at the telescope in her hands and then cast her eyes upon the rest of the ships cargo, such fascinating and unusual objects, surely the makers of such things can not all be as cruel and heartless as her sisters say? Feeling a strange pang in her heart that she could not place, she returned the curio back where she had found it and with a curve of her tail darted from the ship and began to swim up through the dark water to the surface.

The sea parted silently as she broke the surface creating little more than a ripple. The night was filled with the haunting chorus of her mermaid sisters, singing a song to the great glowing orb in the sky. Mermaids have always had a fascination with light and the moon. It calls to them under the waves. The Mermaid swam to join them on the surf splashed rocks. Hauling herself onto a seaweed strewn out crop, she did not join them in their song. Instead she listened and gazed out across the bay.

The light of the moon danced on the small scales on her skin and the gentle salty breeze tickled her eye lashes and stirred the loose strands of hair falling across her face. The Mermaid realised then that she was always going to be different from her kind, an oddity amongst her shoal, tolerated but never fully accepted. A mermaid does not cry easily, least of all to feelings of sadness, they are far too proud for such an act. But if they did, there would be two pearly tears running down the Mermaid's cheek. Raising her lovely face to the night sky she began to sing. Her melody different but blended beautifully with the song of her sisters. The Mermaid's song was a call across the waves to a fellow heart, where ever It maybe. A heart that was different like hers, a kindred spirit. Perhaps someday she will find this fellow heart, a heart the matched her own. So she called to the moon, hoping it would hear her and carry the message of her song out far across the oceans where someone might hear it, and answer with a song of their own.

The End.


End file.
